


Unbecoming A Luthor

by ssa_archivist



Series: Denial Series [4]
Category: Smallville
Genre: Drama, First Time, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-22
Updated: 2003-03-22
Packaged: 2017-11-01 06:21:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/353054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssa_archivist/pseuds/ssa_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Actions speak louder than words when Lex apologizes.  Sequel to Rejection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unbecoming A Luthor

## Unbecoming A Luthor

by SkaterBoy

[]()

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Feedback + SkaterBoy = more CLex PWP (and other CLexy goodness)!!!! 

* * *

You weren't expecting that, were you, Lex. Why would you expect Clark to share your feelings? Why would you even think about Clark's feelings? 

And now you hate yourself even more. It's gone way past denial, you can't pretend you don't want him. You know you do, you have all along. But you had to be a Luthor and do what was expected of you. You couldn't even fucking think for yourself! Do you really want to be like Lionel? Do you want your whole life to be a game? Because if you do you're going to be just like _him_. 

You're a fucking plastic plaything. A bunch of plaster poured into a mold and you do whatever he says, just because you're a Luthor. You're his pawn. And the sooner you get that, the sooner you'll start making your own decisions. Stop living for him. You're not him, Lex. It really is okay to be more than just a chess master. More than just a Luthor. 

You used to rebel. You did whatever the hell you wanted, and you always got away with it. Sometimes because you were clever, sometimes because of daddy's money but you used to know how to live for yourself. What's stopping you now? 

Admit it, you wanted to kiss him back. What's the worst that could happen? Maybe you would've hated yourself or maybe Lionel would've found out and thought you were a fag. But you _already_ hate yourself and since when is Lionel the God of all things right and wrong in the world? You played his game to get ahead in business. You're ahead, right? So why not go with it? Even if Lionel knows he can't really do anything about it. LexCorp is _yours_ , you made damn sure he can't get his hands on it again. 

You hurt Clark. You never apologized for the way you reacted and he ran away. You didn't go after him, like you should have. You let Martha get scared half to death when she realized Clark was missing. You told Pete you hadn't seen Clark. 

When he finally came back, he tried to act like it never happened. He still wanted to be your friend, he made that clear in every one of the emails and phone calls and times he accidentally bumped into you at the Talon. So you pretended too. Because you still wanted to be his friend too, even though you knew it couldn't really go back to the way it was before. Because now you've admitted to yourself that you want him. Even if that means you don't deserve the Luthor name. 

So you start dropping hints. You still don't apologize but you don't glare at him every time he touches your shoulder. You let yourself stare at him and you don't look away when he catches you. You even let yourself smolder at him again, except this time it isn't a game. This time you mean it and you want him to know it. You think he might even notice. 

You invite him over to play pool again. It's the first time since the attempted kiss and you have a plan. You don't know if it will work but it's worth a try. Clark looks at you like he hopes you're totally sure of what you're doing. 

Effervescence. Obliteration. Triskaidekaphobia. Supercali... 

Big words. Feelings are small words and you're tired of small words. But big words aren't helping at all and you don't want to think in feelings, you just want to feel. So you stop thinking. You play pool with Clark and it's exciting because you're going to try to make something happen. You just hope Clark has forgiven you, and that he wants you back. 

Clark's a teenager. You're a hot rich guy. Of course he wants you. 

Of course, you hope it isn't that simple. Clark's never been about looks or money. He's all about sincerity and friendship and loyalty. That's why you like him so much. 

Lex likes. You like. You didn't used to like. You lusted, you never liked. Never loved. You like Clark. Just let it be. 

You watch him bend over and line up the shot. You think it would be nice if you were standing behind him so you could look at his ass, but you've got a pretty good view from here. He's concentrating, chewing on his lower lip, glancing at the white ball, the striped ball, the pocket, the cue, back and forth treating it like the complex geometric and physical problem that it _is_. It strikes you that Clark is smart. 

Then he shoots and he scores! You have to grin at the completely immodest pride that comes over his face. It was a tough shot and he figured it out. You tell him as much. You ask him to show you how to do that. You've been waiting for an opportunity like this and here it is. It presented itself without elaborate manipulation. Maybe it's meant to be. 

Clark looks a little surprised. He's seen you make tougher shots. He knows exactly what you're up to. A struggle crosses over his face as he tries to figure out the trap you're setting - are you teasing, setting him up for another rejection, or giving him another chance? Because this gives him the power to decide how close to come. He can demonstrate from afar, show you how to hold your arm, or he can get right up close, full-body press from behind and guide your movements. 

He accepts the challenge. He looks a little hesitant, but he's willing to risk rejection again for the chance of success. Your eyes follow him as he approaches and you position the cue but stand up straight so he knows you're not teasing him. 

First he puts his hand over your hitting hand on the cue. Bold move. A little surprising but good, even better when he starts to move behind you. More and more of his arm covers yours, then he's there at your back. You can't feel him at first and maybe he's avoiding touching you because he could be a whole lot closer, but then his other arm moves around to cover your setting hand. He can't avoid it now, neither could you even if you wanted to. His hands over yours, the pool table against your stomach, his entire body flush with your backside. Chest on back, legs on thighs, and best of all, pelvis against your ass. If you were claustrophobic this would not be a good thing. Fortunately for you, and Clark's feelings, you're not claustrophobic, you're horny. Therefore, this is a good thing. 

It takes you a minute to realize Clark's not moving. He's frozen. Except for the quick, harsh breaths hitting your scalp. It feels good, but Clark's nervous. And something has to happen soon. So you tell him 

_it's okay_

and arc back into him like a cat. 

And even if the rest of his body is still frozen at least his dick is working. That's all the encouragement you need and you go into full seduction mode. You rub back against him and he swells up so fast you're glad you decided to go for it. No more breath on your skull when he sucks in all the air he can get. When he starts breathing again he whispers 

_i don't know what to do_

and you say 

_do whatever you want_

and you worry he'll decide he wants stand there forever. That would be a bad thing. 

But only good things have happened so far. So maybe he wants to do the same thing you want to. 

Apparently he wants to kiss and nuzzle, because that's what he starts doing to your neck. You're not much of a kisser, you're used to having a quick fuck and getting it over with, but then again you've never really liked someone you've fucked, so maybe it's okay. Because you like Clark. 

Judging from the way he's pressing you into the pool table, he likes you too. 

He keeps kissing you even after the cue falls out of your hands and clatters on the floor, so there's not even that pretense left. It's time to get things going. 

_bedroom_

Brief panicked look when you grab his hand and start pulling him up the stairs. Then he beams and follows you, almost runs ahead of you but he doesn't know where your room is so that's kind of defeating the purpose. 

You push him down so he's sitting on the bed and face him as you start to take off your clothes. Stand between his knees as you unbutton your shirt, close enough that he could touch you but he knows he's not supposed to. Sits there, watching and licking his lips. You don't move away when you casually strip out of your slacks and shoes, and Clark looks like he's about to faint when he realizes you're not wearing anything under your slacks. Nice and hard, already, your dick stretches out over the mattress, looks like it's levitating. Defying gravity an inch above the blanket, between Clark's legs that spasmodically clench around your legs but he can't get any closer. So now you're naked and Clark is sitting on the bed completely dressed with his mouth hanging open. 

The clothing situation must be remedied and the open mouth must be put to use. Two birds with one stone, you kiss him hard on the mouth and get rid of his shirts in record time. It's like he doesn't even know what's happening, lets you map every inch of his mouth with your tongue. Warm and wet and will definitely be useful later on. But first to get him out of his pants. 

Naked Clark on your bed. Consider sucking him off but decide it'll be more to just have him fuck you right away. Don't have to worry about hurting him by trying to fuck him and if he can't figure out to jerk you off you can get off with your own hand. Who cares if you haven't been fucked before, if you've only been with women. He hasn't been with anyone. Let him be the first and be his first. It's all good. The best part is that you won't even have to use a condom. Do it au naturel. 

You refuse to let your first time with a man be anything like being with a woman. So after you kiss him into oblivion and he gets the idea of what he's going to do you get on your stomach. You reach back and pull him over you and he starts kissing the back of your neck again, a little harder this time and oh yeah, that's going to leave a mark. He takes back one of his hands to position himself, and it takes longer than you expect and you're not really sure he knows what he's doing. But that's okay, at least he knows to go slow. He seems to get it when you start squirming, that it's because this feels weird and little uncomfortable and he stops and lets you get used to him. Which is very good for both of you. 

A little bit at a time, getting bigger and harder and more uncomfortable, and he stops every time you squirm. You're starting to think maybe this isn't all it was cracked up to be when oh _yes_ it's even better than you could have imagined. Sweet sharp sparks everywhere and you stop squirming and start pushing back into him and that's good. There's _more_? Fuck. Amazing. 

You grab his hands and lace your fingers together, clenching your hands around his as he starts moving out and back in again. It fucking burns and you think maybe you should've taken the time to find some lube but there's nothing you can do about it now but ride it out. Instinct takes over and Clark starts thrusting, intoxicating rhythm and the pain really doesn't matter any more. You squeeze his hands until it hurts and thrust back, ample friction from the blanket to bring you off when he stiffens and you feel your ass clench around his dick and he's pulsing inside you and you're coming all over the blanket. You've never felt so completely filled in your entire life and nothing, absolutely nothing matters or exists outside of this room and Clark on top of you and in you filling you and collapsing onto your back. Sticking to you with salty sweat and semen, sticky and bonded together. 

You vaguely realize he's breathing as hard as you are and you kiss his fingers, salty with sweat and tasting like Clark. He lays on you you don't know how long. Then he gets up, slowly and pulls out, slowly too and you roll over onto your side and he spoons around you. Feeling... content, you don't think you've felt like this before and you accept it and kiss his fingers until he falls asleep. 

Just before you fall asleep you turn over so you're facing him. You pull him close, wrap your arms around him, stare at the contented look on his sleeping face and wonder if you can keep him. 

You like Clark. You decide you're going to do this again. Not just the fucking, that was great, but make your own decisions. Do what you want to do. Don't worry about what other people think. The only person who matters is Clark. That's why you fall asleep thinking 

_i like clark_


End file.
